


Adventures in the West

by Ajstrash



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Post Season 8
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 07:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19268395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ajstrash/pseuds/Ajstrash
Summary: Arya is off to discover what is West of Westros. With Yara Greyjoy as captain, Arya is not looking forward to being stuck on a ship with the sour Greyjoy until they find a common ground: alcohol.





	1. Chapter 1

The air was thick and musty below the deck of the ship, the smell of vomit and sweat clung to every room, even those with small portholes. Years of people being crammed into such close quarters did nothing for the moist wood of the hull. Which was why Arya prefered to stay above deck when the weather permitted, sleeping in whatever spot she could find: piles of ropes, sacks of grain, once or twice she slept on the deck itself, not wanting to feel suffocated down below. They had been on the sea for close to a month and scarcely saw any land after they left Westeros but she was determined to keep sailing until they reached land again. 

The men of the ship were not happy with her plans despite the heavy compensation she was paying them all to come along. She heard their not-so hushed whispers as they complained to each other. ‘The young wolf doesn’t belong on the sea,’ they would say, ‘she’s a fool for believing there’s anything more to the world.’ To that she would announce her presence by reminding them that they were just as foolish for agreeing to sail with her. 

She was sitting on the edge of the deck, picking apart some brown bread and soaking in the warm morning sun as the rest of the ship was still waking up below. It was nice to have a few peaceful moments every day where she didn’t have to be Arya Stark. Sadly, her moments alone were interrupted by the sound of boots walking toward her. She could tell by the gait and speed that is was their captain. 

The woman cleared her throat before speaking, “My Lady,” The Iron Island accent pierced Arya’s ears just as much as the phrase.

“I’m not a Lady,” she looked over her shoulder and was greeted by Yara Greyjoy’s permanent scowl before going back to her morning bread. “What can I do for you, captain?” 

“I’ve heard you’re still not using your cabin, typically I couldn’t care less, but the men are complaining.”

“They complain about everything, what of it now?” 

She could hear a sigh and could only assume Yara was pinching the bridge of her nose before with frustration. “Clearly this voague is a lot longer than any of them anticipated, they find it unfair that they’re crammed together while you have your own room that you are even using.”

Arya finished the last of her food and brushed the crumbs into the sea before standing to face the woman. “So give it away, I don’t need it, I prefer above deck. Just put my chest in the hall. These men of yours complain more than the Northmen in the middle of Winter.” 

“There is also the matter if we should continue on and risk running out of rations or return home empty handed.” 

Arya scoffed at the notion, “Where is that Greyjoy dedication your brother spoke of so much?”  
“Don’t you dare speak of my brother,” she nearly hissed as she spoke. Arya could tell she hit a nerve but Yara quickly collected herself before speaking again. “Shall we take a look at the maps before you make a decision?”

She may be captain, but Arya was in charge. “I’ve already made my decision, we’re not turning around. No great discovery has happened by turning around.”

“The men will not be happy with that, but as you wish.”

“I’m sure you can handle things, now if you will excuse me, I’m going to check the horizons.” Yara gave a small nod before leaving. Arya felt herself relax as she watched the woman leave. Growing up with Theon as a brother figure, she always wondered how it would be to meet his older sister. She had always admired the stories but after the years of war, when they finally met, there was too much strife between the two families for Arya to enjoy being on Yara’s ship. 

She crossed the deck to the high pole of the crow’s nest. Typically she enjoyed her shortness, but once a day she had to make the long climb to the top to check their progress. Sure, any of the men could do this job, but once she was up there, she enjoyed being able to see farther than anyone has before. Sucking in a breath, she took hold of the rungs of the ladder and started her climb.

Finally, she reached the top; out of breath and sweaty, but she made it. She took off her thick leather over shirt to let the wind whip through the thin blue blouse, instantly cooling her off. It always took her a few minutes to regain her strength before she pulled a looking glass from her belt to check the sky. “Please show something, please show something,” she muttered as she scanned around. Everything, as far as she could see was blue. Blue of the sky and a slightly darker blue of the sea. It was breathtaking the first few times she had gone up there but now, a month later, she was bored of it. She was just about to finish her circle when the scenery changed drastically. The sky Northwest of the ship was a deep blue and she knew a storm was blowing towards them. “Gods dammit, not what I was hoping for.” She could tell it would be a few hours before it would reach them but too large to go around. Typically she stayed up longer but with this news, she knew she had to tell Yara so she tied her shirt around her waist and started back down to the deck. 

Yara was below deck, talking to a group of men when Arya finally found her. “Greyjoy,” she called as she approached, out of breath. 

The other woman looked away from the men with what seemed like a hopeful smile. “Please tell me there’s actual something out there.”

“There is, but not what you’re hoping,” she brushed the loose strands of her hair out of her face before she finished. “There’s a storm coming, looks pretty bad. We should start securing everything.” She tried to make her voice sound commanding but she could hear the shakiness with her own ears. 

“Gods,” Yara muttered before turning back to the men. “You heard her, get to work.” The men scattered to spread the word and start the annoying job of preparing for the storm. They listened to Yara with complete loyalty, which Arya was actually impressed with. The Islanders were a fiercely loyal group that was to par with the Northmen. “Bet you regret giving away your cabin now, four men already claimed it as their own.” There was a teasing tone to her voice that reminded Arya of Theon. 

“I’ll be fine, I’ll just stay with the cargo or something.” It wasn’t the first time she had to stay in peculiar places.

“Nonsense, even if you say you aren’t, you’re still a lady. There’s more than enough room in mine. You can ride out the storm with me.”


	2. Chapter 2

The storm blew in much quicker than Arya had assumed but it was just as harsh. She could hear a few men getting sick in other rooms which was making her feel queasy. Yara seemed unfazed after years of being on the sea. She was nursing a cup of ale by the porthole, watching the waves crash against the ship. Arya was nervously cleaning her blades despite not seeing action since they left port. 

They had only seen three storms in their time at sea, and each time felt like the first. She was a wolf, not meant to be on the sea for so long. The trip to and from Braavos was much shorter and they hadn’t seen any storms. This voyage was much harsher than she expected, but she’d be damned if she let anyone know. 

“Some ale would do you good,” Yara’s voice cut through the silence. She had crossed the room, already pouring a cup before Arya could reply. 

“I don’t like drinking,” she said as the cup was pushed into her hand anyways. But after a large wave rocked the ship enough for her to lose balance, she took a large drink of the ale hoping Yara was right. 

“See, not so bad,” she came to sit across from Arya at the small table she was sitting at. Yara kicked her legs up and rested her boots atop the table. “You need to lighten up, little wolf,” there was a patronizing tone to her voice that made Arya roll her eyes. “Or not,” she scoffed before taking another drink.

“You Greyjoys are much more care free than the Starks,” she admitted, looking at the dark amber liquid in her hands.   
“We’re as free as the sea, at least that’s what Father always told us. We can do and take what we please.”

“If only we were like that in the North.”

“I don’t think that would be taken too kindly up there. All those honors and traditions.” She had a point but Arya didn’t say anything else, instead she took another sip and let out a sigh. When another large wave rocked the ship, she grabbed the hilt of Needle out of instinct which made a hearty laugh come from the other woman. “I don’t think that’s going to save you here. Is this your first time on a boat?”

Arya felt her cheeks get hot with embarrassment. “No, it’s not,” she shot back at her. “Just the longest I’ve been on one.”

This seemed to peak Yara’s interest. “Ah, I did hear stories of a lost highborn girl who traveled the land learning special skills. But no one seems to tell the same story, always adding or subtracting different bits of information.”

“Well not many people know the truth.” In reality, no one did. The only other person who knew what she had been through had died in the siege of Kings Landing but she was grateful to have had the chance to thank him for everything. 

“We have plenty of time, why don’t you tell me what is true?” She took her legs off the table and leaned forward with interest. 

Arya finished her ale before setting the cup on the table. “I’m going to need a lot more of that if I’m going to tell you anything.” Yara raised an eyebrow but poured her some more without question, ready to listen. She told her the stories of her years after her father’s death. Pretending to be a boy, becoming Lord Tywin’s cupbearer, the Brotherhood, traveling all over with the Hound trying to find whoever was left of her family before finally leaving him to continue to Braavos. She left out a few parts though; Gendry leaving her with the Red Woman, her leaving the Hound to die, little things she was not proud of. By the time she started on the House of Black and White, they had finished most of the ale and any animosity between them was long forgotten. The Faceless Men was the hardest to explain, not wanting to expose the ancient secrets she had learned despite Yara’s questions about it. She kept it vague, explaining the game of faces and the stand off between her and the Waif. This part entertained Yara the most, they were quite drunk by then and she was howling with laughter when Arya explained how she trapped her. 

“My Gods, the stories give you no justice. And now look at you! You killed the NIght KIng, survived Kings Landing, and now we're off to discover what there is outside of that shit country!” She finished the last of her ale and slammed the cup down on the table. “When I received the raven from your Maester, I wanted to burn it and say I never received it. I thought you were crazy! Not even my insane uncle dared coming this far west. Now he’s dead and here we are!”  
Arya laughed at this, it was amusing how just a few hours ago, they two of them despised each other. One would say they were evening becoming friends, thanks largely to the alcohol. “Yes, here we are. A Stark and a Greyjoy, off the discover a new world.” 

A silence came after that and Arya knew she had made a mistake bringing up the sore topic of their families. But after a few beats, Yara broke the silence again. “I heard other stories too. Is it true you bedded the new Lord of Storm’s End and refused his proposal to be his lady?”

Arya felt her cheeks flush again at this statement but gave a small nod. “Aye, I’m no ones lady,” she said simply which made a smirk come across Yara’s face. 

“You know, I was Queen of the Iron Islands once but I’d be damned if I became anyones lady. Where is the freedom in that? I don’t do well following a man’s orders.”

“I’d assume not,” Arya said before letting out a yawn. She looked across the room to the port hole. The sea had calmed with time but the darkness of night took over. “It seems the storm has passed.”

“I suppose it has,” she said simply.

Arya could feel her eyes staring at her but wasn’t sure what she was waiting for. “I think maybe, I should retire now, sleep off the ale.” She got up to make her way to a good sleeping spot but before she could take a step, she staggered backwards and fell back into the chair.

This made Yara laugh, “I wouldn’t expect a girl of your size to be able to drink that much and walk straight after. And you didn’t prove me wrong.”

Arya felt embarrassed at this, she was always in control and confident but now she didn’t quite feel like herself in the drunkenness. “I’ll be fine, I just have to make it out the door.” She tried to get up again but this time she fell forward, catching herself on the table. 

Next thing she knew, Yara was there beside her with a hand on her elbow. “Come, you can stay in here, you’ll need to sleep it off. And I’m sure when you wake up, you’ll be grateful to have slept on a bed instead of some heap of junk you typically do.” Arya tried to mumble an objection but Yara was already helping her to the bed on the other half of the room. “Get undressed, I’ll find us some water.” The other woman left the room, shutting the door behind her to give Arya some privacy. She wondered if all hear years on the sea had made Yara able to handle her ale like it was nothing. It was as if they had been drinking water all night, she seemed unaffected. With a sigh and wobbly hands, she began untying her boots and was shimmying out of her outer clothes by the time Yara had returned. “Here,” she said passing a new cup to her. “Drink it all, you’ll thank me later.” 

She did as she was told before settling into the bed and closing her eyes. She felt like the whole world was spinning. The movement of the ship on the waves seemed much more intense than usual. She opened her eyes again and it seemed to be a fraction better. Yara was across the room locking the door and portholes before taking off her own sailing clothes and changing into dark green sleeping clothes. Arya watched her for a moment, not able to take her eyes away until Yara turned around and locked eyes with her. She looked away quickly but noted the slight smile on the other’s lips. 

Yara slipped into the bed, minding the gap between them but Arya could feel the warmth of her body. Much like the many times she and Sansa had shared a bed together growing up. “Goodnight little wolf,” Yara said before blowing out the lamp that was illuminating the room. And with that Arya closed her eyes, hoping sleep would soon come for her.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Arya awoke with the most intense pain in her head. The bright morning light felt like she was staring directly at the sun. When her eyes finally adjusted and allowed herself to look around the room, she remembered what happened the night before and why she was in a strangle cabin. Although, her drinking companion was nowhere to be seen. Yara was probably already to work ordering men around and getting them back on course. 

She found a fresh cup of water next to her clothes from the night before and down it instantly. The pulse beat behind her ears harder than she could remember it had before. “Gods,” she muttered as she pulled on her pants but not her heavy outer shirt. She couldn’t bear the extra layer on top her already sweaty shirt. Stepping into her boots, she rose off the bed with a sluggishness she wasn’t used to. 

Outside of the room, she could hear people moving around and working and could assume she slept most of the morning. When she reached the deck, unprepared for how intense the sun was going to burn into her eyes. Her hands flew to cover her face and she heard the same thick laugh from the night before. 

“Look who awoke from the dead! I thought the Drowned God was going to have to take you away.” Arya knew it was Yara before she moved her hands away from her eyes just in time to see a wine pouch being offered to her. 

“Gods no, I never want to drink again,” her voice was rougher than usual. 

“Trust me, it’ll help. Everyone says that the first they get drunk.” She decided not to fight back anymore and hoped Yara was right. She took the pouch and drank down a large swig. The wine tasted much sweeter than the ale from the night before. 

“How do you seem perfectly fine,” she asked as she handed back the pouch. She did feel a fraction better but not nearly enough to make the throbbing in her head stop. 

Yara chuckled again, “years of practice,” she said matter of factly. “You should get some food, you nearly slept the whole morning away.”

“Right,” she gave a small nod before turning and going back down below deck. Her eyes happy to leave the brightness up above. The walk to the kitchens seemed longer than any other day. The cooks were already working on the evening’s meal so she knew they were going to irritated with her demand for food. Though they would never voice their opinions, being the sister of the new king had a few perks. 

By the time she started on her daily routine, the sun was starting to get low in the sky. She was grateful for this because her head was still foggy. But she toughed it out and started her climb to the top of the pole yet again to see what progress they had made. At the top of the crow’s nest, she sat for a moment just to enjoy the breeze pushing against her. It felt almost as cleansing as a bath, waking her up from the hung over stupper she was stuck in all morning. It was a few good moments before she finally opened her eyes and pulled out the looking glass and started scanning. 

There was water as far as she could see with no signs of storms after the one last night. It was blue as far as the eye could see. That’s why when she saw a speck off in the distance, she didn’t even notice it at first. She had to make a double take to even catch it. It was so small and burly, she thought it was her eyes playing tricks on her. “Greyjoy!” she called out as loud as she could, hoping their captain was close by to hear. Arya looked over the edge of her perch to check and sure enough she could make out the form of Yara looking up to her. If she called back, Arya couldn’t hear with the wind whipping around her so she called out again. “Greyjoy, you should come see this!” She assumed she had heard because Yara started making her way up the pole. She seemed to make the trip more quickly than Arya could with her size. 

“Please tell me it’s not another storm,” Yara said when she was close to the top. 

“I don’t think so… I need a second set of eyes,” she handed her the looking glass when she joined her on the small deck. “There, do you see that?” She pointed off in the direction of the speck for Yara to see.

“Mm I can’t be sure,” Yara moved the looking glass away for a second before looking back again. “It’s definitely… something.”

“Do you think it could be…?” Arya let the words drift away, afraid to jinks them if they were spoke out loud. 

“Possibly. We should change course to whatever it is, and hope for the best. Nice eye, Stark.” The praise seemed genuine despite who it was coming from. Yara handed the looking glass back to her and Arya secured it back to her belt. “Why don’t we celebrate?”

“Why do I have a feeling that means drinking more?” 

“Because that is the only way to celebrate! I can’t believe you’ve spent this entire voyage sober.” She gave out a laugh before starting back down the ladder. “Come on, I promise it won't be as much as last night. It’ll make you feel better.”

“Okay,” Arya sighed and followed after her until they were back on the deck. Dinner was to be served soon and for once, she actually joined the others in the dining room, happy to be out of the bright light. 

Dinner was fish, most meals were fish. Arya didn’t mind, she grew to like it but she was sure the Ironborn were sick of it after eating it their whole lives. Fish wasn’t very common in the North. Yara was already downing a cup of wine and announcing the possible good news to whoever was close enough to listen. Arya was off to the side trying her best to stay out of the spot light. She didn’t want the recognition for something that may be nothing. It didn’t help that she knew no one on board well; she was a wolf in a sea of squid. 

Before long, Yara came to her side and convinced her to drink and enjoy the night. “You’re such a killjoy, Stark. Let loose a little, drink, celebrate, hell get laid. I don’t give a shit, but you need to get rid of that scowl.”

Arya let out a laugh and drank a little before replying. “This is the Stark scowl, I can’t just get rid of it.”

“Well there is a chance we are about to make a huge discovery, try to at least act happy about it.”

“There’s a more likely chance it’s nothing.”

Yara rolled her eyes at the statement, “always a pessimist. All your years traveling and you never learned to have fun? I know for a fact the Braavosi have excellent drinking games.”

“Sadly I didn’t do much drinking with my time here.”

“Yeah, yeah you were too busy murdering people. At least humor me a little and pretend to have a good time? I’m sure there’s a little fun left in you.”

“Fine,” Arya said with a sigh before chugging the rest of her wine. “Happy now? You’ve gotten me drunk two nights in a row.” She had to admit, having the alcohol to dull herself was nice. It was like a switch in her brain flipped and suddenly she didn’t have hundreds of things to worry about. 

Yara cheered at this, “yes! More, more! I want to hear more stories of your time away. I’d share some of mine but they aren’t exactly suitable for the dinner table.” She let out a hearty laugh.

Arya raised an eyebrow at the statement, curious what she meant by it. Rather than question it, she decided to stop fighting and give in. So she refilled her cup and drank some more before falling into a story about her time watching the actors troupe in Braavos. 

The night was pleasant despite her initial reasonings to stay away from the dinner hall in the prior month on the ship. Men came and went as the night went on. Most people were drunk and talking loudly amongst large tables. Arya had shifted from telling Braavosi stories to tales of her childhood in Winterfell. The stories of pranks she would pull on her sister and brothers. Yara shared a few she used to do to Theon before he was sent away to live with the Starks. It was the first time Yara willingly talked about her brother and there seemed to be fondness in her voice as she recalled the memories. The wine was probably to thank for that.

Before she knew it, the room was empty apart from them and a few men who had passed out slumped over the tables or benches. The wine and food was long gone but the two girls had been exchanging stories. There was a point when Yara broke out into the Meereenese anthem when Arya tried to call her bluff when Yara said she spent time in the great pyramid of Meereen while Daenerys ruling over the city. 

This time it was Yara to yawn and give up for the night. “I suppose it’s well past time I retire to my cabin.” She stood, and Arya wasn’t positive, but she could have sworn she saw Yara lose balance as she got up but she decided to let it go.

“Aye, I am spent,” she wasn’t in great shape either. The wine was mostly warn off but the need for sleep was strong enough to knock her out where she sat. 

Yara must have noticed she wasn’t moving and reached out a hand. “Come, you can stay in mine again. You can’t be passed out in the dining hall like them,” she nodded to the few men. “That would be an awful awakening in the morning.” 

Before she would have refused instantly, but she was starting to become fond of Yara and was grateful to sleep in a soft, warm bed again even if it wasn’t in the fresh air. She took Yara’s hand and the two of them made their way across the ship.

Once inside the room, Arya let go of Yara’s hand. She didn’t even realize she was still holding it and could feel her cheeks get hot. Yara must have noticed because she thought she saw a slight smirk on her lips. 

Yara crossed the room to check the porthole for their progress. “Tomorrow, she should be close enough to see what is actually out there. Nothing to do now but rest.”

“Right,” Arya gave a nod before moving to sit on the edge of the bed and began removing her outer clothes. As soon as she lay on the bed, she could feel sleep trying to take her away. 

Yara joined her in the bed blew out the lamp before turning to face Arya. “You can actually be a little fun, Stark. It just takes quite a bit of alcohol to get you there.”

Arya laughed and shifted under the heavy furs to look at her. “I’m sure that isn’t the first time those words have been uttered.” It was Yara’s turn to laugh. She then leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss on Arya’s lips before turning over to fall asleep. 

This took her by surprise, sure she had kissed many people in her life. But mostly it was her parents or siblings, only a few times was it someone else that she actually enjoyed. It was customary in some places to kiss hello and goodbye, yet Arya couldn’t stop thinking about it until she too was taken away by sleep.


End file.
